


i know what i have found

by tosca1390



Category: Psy-Changeling - Nalini Singh
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1876095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca1390/pseuds/tosca1390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She likes having this man in her bed. She likes having him in her space. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	i know what i have found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magisterequitum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/gifts), [empressearwig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressearwig/gifts), [Sonni89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonni89/gifts).



> For Jordan, who deserved something happy and fun. 
> 
> also, everybody else who enjoys this crackship, yo.

*

Rina pauses in the doorway to her bedroom, smiling slightly. 

She has two glasses of water in her hand, the condensation slick over her fingertips. With the windows thrown wide open to the forest surrounding their cabin, a cool breeze trickles in, soft on her bare legs. The fabric of Aden’s discarded t-shirt is soft against her skin, hanging at mid-thigh. She stands still and watches him as he lays in her bed, skin golden from the sun, toned and muscled in a way only a fellow warrior would note. His eyes are closed, lashes laying like dark crescents against his skin. The moonlight seeps through the tree cover and in through the windows, dappling over his naked form. 

She likes having this man in her bed. She likes having him in her space. 

“Tired?” she asks as she finally walks in.

“You stood there for a long time,” he replies, voice even though his eyes remain closed. 

She sets the water glasses down on her crowded nightstand and kneels back onto the mussed bed, perched beside him. “Caught me.”

“What were you doing?”

“Spying,” she teases, running a hand through her loose yellow curls. 

Aden’s lips twitch. He opens his eyes. His hands lay folded on his taut stomach. For an Arrow, he has a remarkable comfort with nudity. Or perhaps that is her influence. She doesn’t mind either way. 

“And what did you discover?” he asks. 

She’s still learning to read the slight inflections of his voice, but this she knows; he’s teasing her. 

Wetting her lips, she strips his t-shirt from her body and tosses it to the floor. Her room is always a mess of clean and dirty laundry, of shoes and coffee mugs and half-read books; he eyes it distastefully every time he spends the night, but she shrugs it off and kisses him to take his mind off of it. This isn’t the Arrow compound, and this isn’t boot camp; it’s her home, and she will keep it how she wants to. 

“You lay very still when I’m not here,” she whispers, shifting to stretch out over him. He likes it when she lays on top of him, even when they are just fooling around or sleeping in. The weight of her seems to be a comfort. She doesn’t mind; having the solidity of his warm body under her gives her strength. It’s odd how well he seems to understand her; a martial mind meeting another, she supposes. 

Immediately his arms wrap around her waist, his fingers digging into still-taut muscles in her lower back. She moans, nuzzling into his throat. 

“You like this?” he asks. He is good at that, asking for guidance. There are manuals and research files aplenty, but he wants to know what _she_ likes; the knowledge clutches at her heart, squeezes her chest. How does this Arrow, this leader of powerful men, know her so well? Through and through?

Kit thinks they will mate. Apparently, there are bets. She doesn’t want to think about it. Her cat isn’t necessarily skittish at the thought, just unbearably wary; she cannot be abandoned again. She is tough enough for four soldiers, but to be left behind once again would break something in her spirit. 

“I do,” she murmurs softly, relaxing into him as his fingers and knuckles begin to knead and dig into her lower back, soothing the tight muscles. “Aden – “

“Let me do this for you,” he says quietly, his mouth near her ear. 

She kisses his shoulder, runs her lips over the rise of his muscle and bone there, and slumps into the strength of his body. He moves his hands over her tired muscles with ease and skill, like the medic he has been for years. What she knows is this: Aden is no true field medic. 

But there is no room for the worries of the real world in their shared bed tonight. For now, she moves sinuously under his strong hands, her limbs turning to jelly under the pleasure of his touch. She strokes her hands along his sides, feeling the ridges of bone and muscle, inhaling the smell of him; pine and salt. The woods outside are softly quiet with the ambient sounds of night, owls and night cats climbing and fluttering from tree to tree. Kit is out there, running a perimeter shift; in the morning when he comes in, she will be alone. 

Now, she has Aden. 

“You’re good at this,” she says into his warm skin. 

“You taught me well.”

His dry tone makes her smirk. She can feel him half-hard against her thigh. “What else did I teach you well?” she teases. 

He kisses her ear, licks at her cheek. She shivers. Sometimes, when he touches and kisses her, it feels as if he wants to inhale her, take her in so that he will never lose her. Right under her skin, her cat sinks into the caress and relaxes, wanting him. Wanting more. 

She wants more from this man, this Arrow she has spent her nights (and some days) with. She doesn’t know how to ask. Men never seem to want more from her than sex, and that’s been fine before. Now, with him, it’s different. 

“I believe I’ve learned this technique to your approval,” he says low, right into her ear. His fingers slide over her ass and the back of her thigh to cup her damp sex. She shudders and blooms into heady arousal for him, only for him. “You are very wet,” he adds, his words so precise, so lean. 

“For you,” she says into his neck, her teeth scraping along the line of the tendons there. She licks at the mark she makes, moaning into the muscle and bone and sinew as his fingers tease between her wet folds. 

“Only me,” he states, a fact. Aden deals in facts. 

She lets him have this one. “Only you.”

The pad of his thumb circles her clit just once before disappearing, two fingers curving inside of her cunt. She bites down over his pectoral and rocks into his touch, arousal flushing her skin all over. The smell of them fills the room, weaving with the forest breeze and the lingering sweat and heat of the hot August day. 

Soon he turns her onto her back, his dark eyes finding hers in the moonlight. She bites her lip and spreads her thighs for him, her face flushed and her hands digging into his shoulders. Dark sleek hair falls across his brow, longer than she knows he would normally grow it. She told him she liked the length a few weeks ago; now, he keeps it longer for her. Is it a sign? Or another fact, another thing he does just to please her and not for any deeper reason? 

Does she care?

His fingers slide away from her, the wet sounds pulling a gasp from her. 

“Aden,” she whispers, empty and wet and wanting. 

In response, he bows his head and rubs his jaw over the rise of her breasts, his teeth grazing the full curves. She slides her fingers over the nape of his neck and moans, hips shifting restlessly against his. But now, he takes his time; his tongue flicks out over her taut nipples, his lips and teeth sucking marks at her sternum. She quivers with want, her arousal deep and easy to scent even for an Arrow as he kisses his way over the taut line of her belly, the curve of her hips. She is spread wide, open for his touch and gaze and mouth. As he settles between her thighs, she clenches her fingers into his dark hair, like silk under her fingertips. 

“You like this,” he says quietly, the flush at the tops of his cheekbones unmistakable. He wants her, she thinks. He wants her as much as she wants him. Is it enough?

“Yes,” she breathes. 

“I like this too,” he says, and tongues along the center of her damp flesh. His palms on her thighs spread her wide and she cries out as he eats at her with lips and tongue and teeth, drawing out the crest of her pleasure. Her hips buck for his attention but he pins her with one arm across her belly. She tangles her fingers in his mussed hair and moans, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. He knows just how to tease her clit, to push two fingers inside and lick at her cunt, to cover her clit with his mouth and suck. He knows because she taught him, and now – now – 

“I love the taste of you,” he murmurs against her thigh, his lips sticky. He strokes her from within and she purrs, deep from her throat, sweat beading along her brow. “Rina, come for me.”

He licks at her once more and she can’t help but obey, moaning his name as the climax washes over her. He strokes her, pets her, nuzzles her thigh as she breathes through it, the smell of sex heavy in the air. In the moonlight he looks as dangerous as any cat in her bed; but here, he is just Aden. She just wants Aden. 

Slowly, kissing along her belly, he turns her onto her back and slide into her from behind, his hand under her belly to cup her breast. She rolls her hips back into the thrust and turns her cheek into the pillow, panting. He holds himself over her slightly, an exertion of Tk, she is certain; but she feels him as if his bones are her own. She reaches back and cups his hipbone, arching her back as he moves within her. He mouths at her neck and shoulders, pushing her mass of yellow waves aside. As he sinks his teeth into her shoulder, a mark she will carry for days, he comes within her, groaning her name into her skin. She shudders and moans in return, the weight of him at her back a welcome one. 

At last, their breathing still heavy, he slips from her and turns her to her side, curling around her with his chest to her back. When his arm settles around her waist she covers his hand with her own, and sighs. 

“You never drank your water,” she murmurs. “I put a nutrient powder in it and everything.”

He goes very still behind her, his mouth at the curve of her shoulder. “You did?” he asks at last, voice low and uncertain. 

She cranes her neck to look back at him. “Sure. I keep some here for you,” she says, suddenly unsettled. It is a confession of presupposed intimacy; perhaps she pushes too much. But when has she ever behaved herself when it came to men? “Now I don’t know which is which.”

For a long moment, he says nothing. Then, he turns her onto her back and kisses her full on the mouth, a startling display of affection. His hand flattens over her belly and his chest presses against her side, a full caress of skin privileges that has her cat stretched out and happy under her skin. Shutting her eyes, Rina cups his face and holds him close, kissing him intently, wetly. 

“Thank you,” he says, eyes oddly bright. “I – I am pleased.”

She grins a little, trying to hide the flush from her cheeks. “Does this mean I surprised the great Arrow, Aden?”

“It has been known to happen.”

“I got your number, babe,” she teases with a laugh. 

In response, he kisses her until her brains are scrambled and all she can think of is him. 

They never do figure out which water is which. 

*


End file.
